


Fib

by deinvati



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Crack, M/M, POV Outsider, POV cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29414697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deinvati/pseuds/deinvati
Summary: Arthur's cat meets Eames for the first time and is conflicted. The strangest part? Arthur doesn't seem to be.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	Fib

Dear Diary,

My Arthur brought home a new human last night, and there's something quite different about this one. I am recording my findings here for future reflection.

Normally my Arthur is a proper tomcat, and I've always been very proud of his reproduction attempts (even if I am barred from the room due to the singular incident I previously recorded). I usually attempt to rectify this unjust exile, to no avail, and this human was no exception.

However, the abnormality I feel compelled to record happened far earlier in the evening, and transpired thusly:

I was anticipating my Arthur's return as it was quite close to dinner time (within mere hours), and I met him at the door to remind him of this fact. I was taken aback by the presence of another human with him and voiced my displeasure. My concerns fell on deaf ears, per the norm.

My Arthur indicated myself and said, "This is Fibonacci. I call him Fib." And so I attempted to preen, despite being immediately introduced with so intimate a nickname.

My preening was not, to my surprise, ignored.

Mr. Eames squatted down and presented his finger, engaging in the customary sniffing ritual protocol. Shocked by this show of basic decency, I deigned to grant him the honor of smelling his person. Then he proceeded to give me one (1) head scratch and one (1) spine stroke, all the way from my ruff to the base of my tail, which this record knows is supremely preferred above all other pets. He did not attempt additional contact—displaying restraint and an appreciation of boundaries not commonly respected by humans. This interaction showed a supreme intelligence and general level of morality and respectability which are rare in humans but nonetheless deserved by one such as me.

I don't know what came over me. I felt an immediate need to turn and show him my butthole, a high honor, of course.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fib," the human said. "I'm Mr. Eames—rogue and rapscallion, stealer of hearts and other valuables."

I raised my nose and donned an appropriate sneer, looking to my Arthur to view his beautiful derision of this deficient grasp of basic grammar. But that was when something extraordinary happened. When I saw his face, it was soft.

He raised an eyebrow and said, "Stealer?" but his heart wasn't in it. "Don't you mean thief?"

This Mr. Eames grinned like he'd been paid a great compliment, and replied, "Whatever you say, darling," which is, I admit, the correct response, and yet I don't feel as if he meant it with the appropriate level of fear and subservience to which a human of mine is entitled.

But he rose, all attention given back to my Arthur, which was banal but understandable behavior given all the pheromones in the air, and they retired shortly thereafter.

My curiosity had been piqued, though, and I shall keep an eye on this human for further study. Perhaps additional observation can be made at my spirited 3am venture after the recital of the song of my people.

Until then,  
Fib


End file.
